


Wisteria

by Kibbers



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bullying, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Sam Has Self-Esteem Issues, Sam has flowers for hair, Self-Worth Issues, Slow Build, friends first, gabe is his friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-25
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-06 02:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4204290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kibbers/pseuds/Kibbers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without saying anything, Sam grabbed the back of his beanie, damp beneath his fingers, and pulled it off his head. Locks of purple flowers, Wisteria flowers, fell around his face. He was too scared to look up. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears, feel the sweat on his palms. </p><p>“Well I’ll be damned,” Mrs. Harvelle said.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story is for Sam Winchester who, although he could see the devil, shared his candy bar.

“Sam Winchester?”

“Here,” Sam called softly from the back of the classroom. 

“Hat off, Mr. Winchester.”

At that Sam’s stomach dropped. He couldn’t. Dean said he'd explained everything to the administration. With panic stirring in his gut up he shook his head at Mr. Fitzgerald.

“Rules are rules man,” he shrugged.

He didn’t understand. Something must have gone wrong. He couldn’t take off his beanie.

“I can’t,” Sam whispered.

His teacher just raised his eyebrows.

“Listen, Sam. I’m pretty chill about things, but when I ask you to do something you gotta do it.”

“It’s for medical reasons,” Sam said. Close enough to the truth to not be a lie.

“Do you have a note?” Mr. Fitzgerald asked. Sam shook his head.

“Then it’s got to come off. That or a trip to the office. Your choice.”

Sam hesitated, but got up, gathered his things and walked out the door, too aware of every pair of eyes burning holes into his back. Mr. Fitzgerald started teaching again before the door even shut behind Sam.

The hallways were mostly empty and Sam kept his eyes on the floor. He thought Dean had this taken care of. It was the only reason he could even risk going to a public school after being home schooled for years. That and Dean couldn’t stay home with him anymore, he needed to be working to pay for their apartment. Plus Sam really wanted any semblance of a normal life, and this was as close as he could get.

Sam stole into a bathroom and pulled out his phone. He tried to call Dean, but it went to voicemail. Shit. What was he supposed to do now? He took a deep breath and thought through his options. He could go back to class and talk to Mr. Fitzgerald, but he didn’t think the guy would budge without a pass. He could just go home, but he really didn’t want to. It was his first day and he really wanted to make this work both for himself and for Dean. That left talking to either the principal or the nurse in order to get a pass. This meant showing them his hair and that meant they could still say no. But at this point, it was his best chance.

Sam walked into the office, unsure where to go.

“Can I help you, sweetie?” A receptionist asked.

“Where’s the nurse’s office?”

She pointed at a closed door before going back to clicking at her computer. Sam opened the door slowly and was relieved to find it empty of any other kids. The nurse glanced up from her computer as Sam pulled the door firmly shut behind him. The nameplate on her desk read ‘Ellen Harvelle’. She just looked at Sam and waited.

“Uh, my name’s Sam Winchester and I don’t know if my brother talked to you about me, but I need a pass so I can keep this beanie on during class,” Sam said.

“Winchester, huh? Sounds familiar. One sec, honey.” She turned around and started rifling through a filing cabinet behind her. Sam sat down on a plastic chair much too small for his frame.

“Mhmm, it says here you didn’t get a parent’s signature so your pass was denied.”

“Oh,” Sam said. This was bad. He hadn’t seen his dad in probably two years and Dean wasn’t technically a guardian so he couldn’t sign it.

“There a problem with that?” The nurse asked.

“Uh, well my dad isn’t exactly around and my brother’s raising me. I guess I’ll just have to go back to home school or something,” Sam mumbled and stood to leave.

“Sit back down,” She said, “If I deem it necessary, I can sign off on your pass. It says here it’s for ‘Other’. Care to explain?”

Sam hesitated. He knew he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, show anyone, it would only make him stand out and that was never a good thing. But what else was he supposed to do? Dean wasn’t answering and he really needed this pass. He needed to be around kids his age. To know how to interact with people. To feel normal for once.

Without saying anything, Sam grabbed the back of his beanie, damp beneath his fingers, and pulled it off his head. Locks of purple flowers, Wisteria flowers, fell around his face. He was too scared to look up. All he could hear was his heartbeat in his ears, feel the sweat on his palms.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Mrs. Harvelle said.

So, Sam had flowers for hair. Flowers that needed to be watered in the morning. Flowers that needed sunlight. Flowers that could wither and die and grow down to the floor. Right now they sat a little above shoulder length, long enough to tuck behind his ears if he didn't have to hide them away under a hat. He liked the length, easy enough to maintain while leaving enough room for the vines to flower.

“Do they know what caused it?” She asked, stepping closer. Close enough that Sam could see her boots from where he was staring at the ground. Sam shook his head.

“My mom just said it was a miracle, my dad just said I was a freak," Sam mumbled.

“It’s certainly something,” She said. She was silent for a minute. Sam risked a glance up and found her just studying him.

“Okay, I’ve got a few questions for you. One, do they affect your health?”

“Kinda, like when they start to die, I get sick too.

“Two, do you need to water them throughout the day?”

“Ideally, but I keep the beanie wet so it’s not necessary.”

“Three, are you sure you don’t just want to show everyone and get it over with? People are going to wonder and it'll certainly be hard to keep it a secret.”

Sam shrugged. Both things made him a target. He’d rather keep the real part of him hidden. Let them think he was bald or never washed his hair. They’d never know the truth.

“Okay, I’ll sign your pass. Keep the beanie on during class and you can come in here during third period, right before lunch, to water them if you need to.”

Sam snapped his head up.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” she said a smile on her lips.

“Thank you,” he breathed out. He was so relieved; he’d get to be in class like a normal kid. He’d get to learn about the world and meet kids his own age. And Dean could just focus on work, and not having to take care of Sam too. He didn’t know how to tell her how much this meant to him.

“Alright, back to class Mr. Winchester. I’ll make sure the room’s clear for the end of third period.”

Sam pulled his flowers back underneath his beanie and used the mirror on the back of the door to make sure everything was tucked away. He snatched up the pass and started for the handle of the door.

“And Sam,” She said, “Make sure the people you show are worth it. You’ve got something special there.”

Sam nodded and walked out the door. He hurried back to class, hoping he hadn’t missed much. When he walked in, Mr. Fitzgerald raised his eyebrows, but Sam just handed him his pass and sat down at his desk. Fitzgerald placed the pass on his desk and handed him a worksheet with a nod. Sam waited until he couldn’t feel anyone’s eyes on him anymore before picking up his pencil and reading over the worksheet. As the teacher’s voice droned about Shakespeare from the front of the room, Sam finally felt like a teenager, and he smiled as he started to write.

When the bell rang forty-five minutes later, Sam waited for everyone to file out, pretending to pack up slowly.

“Mr. Winchester, can you stay for a moment?” Mr. Fitzgerald called from the front of the room.

Sam walked up to his desk, his bag slung over his shoulder.

“Listen, Sam. I’m sorry about earlier, but you have to understand. I don’t want us to be on bad terms for the rest of the semester.”

“No, I do understand Mr. Fitzgerald. I thought my brother already took care of the pass, but there was a mix up. I wasn’t trying to be rude.”

“Okay, good. You’re free to go. And please, I know it’s weird, but I'd prefer it if you called me Garth.”

Sam nodded and hurried to his next class. History. It went by without a hitch. He sat in the back, he showed his pass to his teacher, Mr. Singer, who just grunted his approval. Sam had the sneaking suspicion that Mr. Singer was a giant teddy bear underneath all that grunting and scowling.

Third period was Advanced Algebra II. He showed his teacher his note when he walked in and took a seat in the back. The only problem was the desks were arranged in pairs. Sam took the farthest back seat and prayed there was an uneven number of students. He kept his eyes on the note he was fiddling with as the room filled around him. He almost groaned in exasperation when a body dropped into the seat next to him. Whatever. He just wouldn’t talk to him and it would all be okay. The girls sitting in front of him seemed okay enough, both blonde, one skinny with glasses and the other was rather pretty.

Roll call revealed the boy next to Sam was named Gabe, the girls Becky and Jess. Sam settled in for the lecture, notebook out to take notes, but the boy next to him just wouldn’t stop moving. He tapped his pen to the beat of a song, then shifted until his legs were crossed beneath him, then he stretched them out, constant movement. Sam’s jaw hurt with how tight he was clenching it. 

“Okay, partner work just to break the ice a little. Why don’t you all just introduce yourselves? Find a common interest,’’ The teacher called out. Crap.

“Hi, I’m Gabriel,” The boy said. Sam turned to him, noting the golden hair and eyes. Weird. People didn’t usually have eyes like that.

“Sam,” Sam replied.

“So, what do you like Sam?”

Sam shrugged. He could say anything really. Reading, plays, history, documentaries, dogs, the list went on. But he was feeling too exposed for the day already, drained a little. So he just shrugged.

“Okay,” He said, “Looks like we’re not going to get anywhere. We can just say candy is our shared interest. Nice to meet you Sam.”

Sam felt guilt stir his stomach. He didn't want to be rude, but he just couldn't, not today. He almost opened his mouth to apologize, but he just doodled on his notebook.

“So what’s the pass for?” Gabriel asked after a minute.

“Nothing,” Sam said.

“Right, okay. I get it. No more talking.”

Finally he got the hint.

“Is it for your beanie? 'Cause no one else gets to wear hats inside.”

Sam just nodded, hoping a lack of explanation would imply that he didn’t want to give it.

“Oh okay, cool. Uh, so is it contagious? Whatever you have?”

Sam shook his head.

“Okay good because I don’t think I’d look so hot without hair, what do you think Sammy?”

Gabriel was running his hands through his hair, waiting for Sam to respond.

“Please don’t call me Sammy.”

“Okay, hows about Samoose? I mean you are rather large, it fits. Or Sammich? Or Samantha? Any of these sound good?”

“Or you could not call me anything?” Sam shot back, hoping it wasn’t too harsh. 

“How about anytime?”

Sam's resolve broke a little at that. He tried covering his laughter behind his hand, but by the way Gabe looked so happy with himself, it seemed he didn’t quite hide it. Whatever, that was kind of funny.

“Shut up,” Sam said, glaring out of the corner of his eye, but it was lacking malice.

Gabe just laughed and faced forward.

“Okay class, time’s up. What common interests did you all have?”

Sam barely listened after the third answer of 'cats' and the sixth of 'we both like summer'. But then it got to Gabe.

“Gabe, Sam? Common interest?”

“Well, this may come as a shock but, we both think I’m hilarious,” Gabe said. Sam couldn’t help but snort at that. That was not even remotely true. The class around them broke into giggles.

“Gabriel, I think I speak for all of us when I say, no. Just no. Moving on,” Mills said.

Sam  gained a little respect for his teacher then, she seemed pretty cool.

At the end of class he just made eye contact with Ms. Mills and left after she nodded at him. True to her word, Ms. Harvelle had the nurses office cleared.

“Hey Sam. I wasn’t sure if you needed anything, so just let me know okay?”

Sam pulled off his beanie and from his backpack grabbed a plastic squirt bottle of water. He sectioned his hair, going lock by lock until they all were misted. Sam felt a little self conscious, making sure his back was to Ms. Harvelle, but she just clicked around on her computer, humming some song Sam vaguely recognized. Somehow her presence was warm and stabilizing. He could take his time to catch his breath and just settle himself.

With that done, he tucked his flowers into his beanie and thanked Ms. Harvelle before braving the hallways to the cafeteria.

Sam wasn’t sure where to sit. Inside, there were a bunch of round plastic tables, but outside there were more bench type seating arrangements and even some places in the grass to sit. It was probably quieter out there. Plus the warmth always felt good on his head, even through the beanie. He pushed his way through the groups of kids, avoiding the tater tots flying through the air. The cafeteria filled with noise quickly and Sam sighed with relief when he got to the glass doors to the courtyard.

Outside, though, Sam paused. Again, he wasn’t sure where to sit. He looked around for anyone he even remotely knew, but he came up empty. There were quite a few people at the tables under the shade, so Sam walked past those tables and found an empty patch of grass. He could just sit there and read or listen to music.

He set his stuff down, pulling out his lunch and checking his phone at the same time. Dean had called back and left a message.

‘ _Hey Sammy, sorry I missed your call. Swamped at work. Text me to tell me everything’s good, ‘kay_?’

Sam shot him a text.

‘ _Had a mishap this morning, but it’s all good now. Tell you about it later_.’

“Who’re you texting?”

Sam looked up to see Gabriel stopped on the sidewalk in front of the patch of grass he was eating on.

“Just my brother,” Sam said, going back to pulling out his lunch. Sandwich, apple, yogurt, and a few starburst. A generic lunch.

“Knew you liked candy,” Gabe said and sat down beside Sam. Great.

“So, Sammy-slam-a-jama, tell me about your brother.”

“I don't know. Right now he's working as a mechanic and also picks up shifts at a pizza place to help us pay for rent.”

“That’s cool. Is it just you two?”

“Yeah.”

Gabe waited but Sam didn’t say anything else. Sam picked at his sandwich and watched the group across the courtyard throw skittles at each other.

“I’ve got four brothers and a sister, bathroom time is crazy. This one time, Anna locked herself in the bathroom for two hours because Luke said something rude to her and we all were…” Gabe launched into a story that Sam only half listened to. To be honest, it was just nice to have someone to fill the silence. He didn't think he would like the chatter, but it made Sam feel less alone. Sam leaned back and tilted his face towards the sun, warmth seeping under his skin. Much better than the cold classrooms he’d been in all day.

“…and that’s how I got Cas to piss himself in front of a boy he liked.” Gabriel ended. Sam glanced over, bright spots dotting his vision and smiled, before closing his eyes again. Gabriel’s chatter surrounded him, about his family, his classes, a movie he saw last week. It was just like class, but instead of moving his body, he jumped from topic to topic. He tried to pull Sam into conversation a few times, but Sam didn't feel like talking. Gabe just shrugged and kept talking. For that, Sam was grateful.

When the bell rang, Sam gathered his trash and readjusted his beanie to go.

“See ya tomorrow Sammy,” Gabe called. Sam waved before setting off for class. Last class of the day, Biology. This time he got to sit at a table alone, with the promise that he could handle labs alone, and the class passed quickly as they went over the syllabus.

Sam had to walk home, so he packed up and joined the mass of students spilling out the front doors. He plugged some headphones in and turned on a podcast about innovations during World War 2 to listen to as he walked. It was only a mile and a half to his apartment building and the weather was nice. On the way he thought about how lucky he was that Harvelle didn't freak out or tell anyone. He didn’t know how, but he really needed to find a way to thank her.

At home, Dean brought pizza and they ate while staring at the TV.

“Why’d you call earlier?”

“Oh, the teachers weren’t going to let me keep my beanie on, but I got it taken care of,” Sam responded. He knew if he told Dean he had to show the nurse, Dean would flip, so he hoped he wouldn’t pry.

Dean studied him for a minute.

“No problems?”

Sam shook his head, keeping his. Dean nodded and turned back to the TV. Sam tried not to let his relief show. They watched Star Trek reruns for a little while before Dean said he needed to shower off the smell of engine grease and pizza dough. 

As he washed his beanie in the sink, Sam thought about the day. All in all, his first day of high school went alright. Sure it started a little rocky, but he found a safe place and a good spot to eat and he even might have made a little chatter box goofball of a friend. Maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to keep his secret.


	2. Chapter 2

The rest of the week went smoothly. Each day he’d sit in class, gray beanie itching his head, and he'd learn. He was starting to get to know the people around him, to figure out how to interact with his peers and through the hallways. It was a different kind of learning for that too. He loved every minute of it.

Thursday at lunch, Sam and Gabe were eating like usual. Sam had opted to throw in earbuds and tune out the world, so Gabe stole one of the earbuds and they were just listening together, taking turns on who got to pick the next song.

“Ms. Harvelle seemed down today,” Sam said out of nowhere. It had been bothering him all day.

“The nurse? That where you go at the end of class?”

“Yeah. You know anything about her?”

“Nah, I know her daughter goes here and they get into fights a lot, but I haven’t talked to Jo in awhile. Since eighth grade school year probably.”

Sam didn’t know why but he felt like he should do something to cheer her up. As a thank you for helping him and everything, but he couldn’t figure out what. He had no money and nothing else seemed sufficient. As the song ended, Sam reached for his phone.

“Uh uh,” Gabe slapped Sam’s hand away. “Song’s not over, pal.”

“There are literally two seconds left,” Sam said.

“Still not over,” Gabe said.

“Besides, _Heat of the Moment_ isn’t even that good.”

Gabe acted like Sam had shot him, gasping and falling over Sam with a hand over his forehead.

Sam laughed and rolled his eyes, then picked up his phone anyways.

“Aw look at the little faggots, falling all over each other,” A kid from Sam’s English and Algebra class was leering over them on the grass, blocking the sunlight. Sam thought his name started with an A. Alex, Adam, Austin.

“Piss off Alistair,” Gabe said, getting back into a sitting position, a scowl on his face. Sam didn’t think he’d ever seen Gabe look so dark.

“Hey now, don’t need to be so rude. I just wanted to ask Sammy here a question,” Alistair raised his hands up, a sneer on his face as his eyes shifted to Sam.

“Seriously-,” Gabe started but Sam cut him off.

“It’s fine, Gabe. What do you want?”

“I wanna know what little Sammy is keeping under that hat.”

Shit. What was he supposed to do? Sam started stammering out some sort of response, but he was coming up empty.

“First of all, Alistair, like I said before, piss off. Take your daddy issues somewhere else. Secondly, I think if you’re one to pass judgement, you should take care as to how close you and Gordon lean when y’all whisper about everyone else. And thirdly, _don’t_ call him Sammy.”

“Well, well, well, looks like you got yourself a little bodyguard there, Sam.”

Gabe scrambled up, fists clenched.

“Careful, now. Someone might think you’re threatening me. I wonder what Principal Metatron would say about that.”

Gabe stayed still.

“Well, It was great chatting with you boys. Sammy, think over my question before my curiosity gets the best of me, yeah?”

And he sauntered away. What the hell was Sam supposed to do? He knew he needed to come up with something to tide Alistair over or things would get way worse. He knew this stupid hat would cause problems. It just drew attention to himself and he didn’t need that sort of attention. He’d have to tell Dean at some point, especially if it escalated. And then Dean would worry and pull Sam out of school. They really didn't need that.

Gabriel flopped down on the ground before shooting back up and kicking the grass as he paced back and forth.

“Gabe, dude. Thank you for saying what you did. I didn’t have an excuse prepared and it would have gotten bad if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Gabe looked over, but continued pacing.

“Seriously, Gabe. Thank you.” Sam reached up to tug Gabe down, but only managed to brush his sleeve.

Gabe seemed to relax at that, sitting down next to Sam, but a little farther away than before. They sat in silence for a while. When the bell rang, they were slow to move. As they parted, Gabe opened his mouth.

“Whatever you got under there better be worth it, not like a bad haircut or something,” But he was smiling and Sam didn’t take offense at that. It was worth it, right? He breathed out a laugh and went to biology.

 During class he kept returning to Ms. Harvelle and how he could cheer her up. Nothing seemed right. It had to be small, something he could just slip on her desk. Better yet, something he could do anonymously. He spent all class half paying attention and half thinking about this but nothing was right.

On the walk home, he turned up his music so loud he couldn’t hear his footsteps reverberating through his body. It was calming, somehow, to just feel like music for a moment.

On the sidewalk, a little dandelion was growing through the crack. Sam knelt down to pick it up. It reminded him of  when he was little. He used to cut just a small piece of flowers off his head for his mother whenever she was sad or tired. Each time she'd smile and thank him before she'd tell him not to waste his gifts on her. She'd always make sure to find the piece he cut, to spray it and wrap it for an hour to make sure it would grow back. It always did. 

Sam had an idea. Flowers always made people happy, right? He could give that to Ms. Harvelle while she was out for lunch, just to say thanks and to cheer her up. She would know it was him, but he’d feel much less awkward if she was gone when he gave it to her. A lot less exposed. With that idea in mind, he set off for home much lighter. Obviously, he still owed her for keeping his secret, but this would help. At least he was trying.

Dean had the late shift that night, so while Sam made his lunch for the next day, he made an extra sandwich to eat for dinner. On second thought he made another to leave for Dean.  The apartment was dark around him, so he turned on the TV on silent and settled onto the couch to do his history reading assignment. 

Dean woke Sam up around two in the morning.

“Sammy, hey. Bed, now.”

Sam groaned into the couch.

“Seriously Sammy, get your ass to bed.”

Sam dragged himself into a sitting position and rubbed his face.

“School go okay?”

“Yeah, some kid was bothering me about my beanie, but my friend Gabe chased him away.”

“Do I need to kick the kids ass?”

Sam shook his head.

“Alright, let me know, Sammy, okay?”

“Yes, Dean,” Sam said sarcastically. "There's a sandwich for you on the counter."

"Thanks Sammy," Dean disappeared into the kitchen.

“G’night bitch,” Dean called.

“’Night Jerk.” Sam went to bed.

* * *

In the morning, Sam got up five minutes early. While the bathroom filled with steam, Sam studied his hair in the mirror. He needed to find a piece that could be hidden easily, so Dean and Ms. Harvelle didn't notice it. He picked one from the back and took a deep breath. His hands were shaking. It had been years since he'd done this. Using the mirror, he held the piece out straight, using the scissors to cut a piece off of the end. Sam winced a little at the pinch. They were dull, though, so it took more force than usual. It didn't exactly hurt, but he could definitely feel it. It wasn’t exactly connected to him, but it wasn’t as dead as real hair. It was somewhere in between. He stowed the flowers in a plastic bag for later. After his shower, he made sure to hide the shorter piece underneath the rest and prayed Dean didn’t notice before he put his  beanie on. That would be hard to explain.

Sam threw on a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt and gathered his stuff. Lunch, history book, phone and keys. Once he double checked, he walked through the living room and to the front door. Dean was asleep on the couch, the TV flashing lights across his face. Sam turned off the TV and checked to make sure Dean’s phone was charging so he’d have it for work later. That done, he headed to school.

Third hour brought an anxious Sam. He was jittery, nervous. What if she caught him? What if she got mad? He could feel the weight of the plastic bag in his pocket and it was dragging him down. He needed to get rid of it. Logically, if anyone saw it, they wouldn’t have any idea where it came from, but for some reason it felt like they would know. They would know his secret and his cover would be blown.

“What’s wrong, Sammy?” Gabe whispered to him during the lecture.

Sam shook him off, asking him for help on a question even though he knew how to do it. Sam could tell Gabe knew what he was doing, distracting him, but he played along anyways, bending closer to help list out the steps for Sam. Gabe was pretty great, Sam realized.  Never questioned Sam, never pried too deep. Only downfall was his sense of humor was terrible, but Sam enjoyed an opportunity to hone his ‘bitch face’ as Dean called it.

When it was time to go to the nurse, Sam practically bolted from the room. Thankfully the hallways were empty and Sam got to the nurse's office quickly.

“Hey Sam,” Ms. Harvelle greeted him from her computer.

“Hey,” Sam said back. He went about everything like usual, pulling his spray bottle out of his bag and setting his beanie off to the side. He took his time, though. Drawing out every minute he could to get to the bell. He needed the bell to ring while he was in there, that way she’d leave to go to lunch and he could leave the flowers and go. So, he took his time. Fiddling with the bottle, refilling it in the sink, picking up every individual vine of flowers and making sure they were misted. He avoided the one he cut, but everything else was meticulously taken care of. He was about to go over them a second time when the bell rang.

“You almost done, honey?” She asked him.

“Yeah, you can go, I just have to tuck everything in.”

“Okay, don’t touch anything,” She said with a smile. And then she was gone, the door closing solidly behind her. Sam, who was pretending to put his beanie on, finished quickly. He dug the bag out of his pocket and pulled out the flowers. He looked around for paper to leave a note, eyes noticing bright orange sticky-notes. Bingo. He scribbled a quick note.

‘ _Because you seemed down. Thank you._ ’

He left the flowers right on top of the note and left quickly. There was no way she'd miss them.

He found Gabriel already in their spot and spread out in the sun, hand over his eyes.

“Hey,” Sam called out, feeling so light.

“Heya, feeling better?”

Sam nodded and pulled out his lunch.

“You not eating today?” Sam asked.

“Forgot my food this mornin’, I was tired,” Gabriel admitted laughing.

Sam silently offered him half his sandwich and nudged over the yellow Starburst he packed too. They were his favorite color. Gabe flashed him a smile that had Sam blinded.

“So, why’d you decide to come to public school, Sam?” Gabe asked out of nowhere.

“I don’t know. I’ve been home schooled my whole life and I wanted to meet people my age. Plus my brother needs to be working and not worried about me all day, you know?”

Gabe nodded, chewing his Starburst loudly.

“If you don’t mind my asking, where’s your pa at?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know. Haven’t seen him in a few years. Just disappeared.”

“Sorry, Samoose,” Gabe nudged Sam with his shoulder.

Sam just nodded and ate the rest of his sandwich.

“But, seriously, public school? Didn’t they tell you how bad the school lunches were? And the people, God, the people suck man.”

“Yeah, I know,” Sam laughed.

He waited a moment before adding, “I just wanted to feel normal.”

“Well, this is as normal as it gets, my friend. Gross lunches and boring teachers."

They fell into silence. Sam took out his history book, wanting to get a head start on that weekend’s reading. Gabe threw the wrappers of his candy at Sam, trying to get one to land in his ear. That’s how they passed the rest of lunch period.

“Would you want to maybe hang out this weekend?” Gabe asked.

“Yeah, sure. Text me,” Sam handed Gabe his phone to put his number in. 

“Okay, cool,” Gabe said. Sam’s phone pinged thirty seconds later.

‘ _It’s me :p_ ’

Sam rolled his eyes and shut off his phone, laughing at Gabe’s pouting face when he didn’t reply. Sam just threw a candy wrapper at him and laughed when it stuck to his lip.

Later that night, after Sam was home and zoning out, his phone pinged again.

‘ _Don’t dream about me too much_ ’

Sam shot back a response this time.

‘ _Not even nice ones of you getting murdered?_ ’

‘ _Especially not those_ ’

Sam went back to zoning out, but this time, he had a small smile on his face. He had a small itch of an idea forming in the back of his head too. Something having to do with scissors and a flowery thank you for the golden eyed sophomore. Something he knew he probably shouldn’t do.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't decide if this should be split into two chapters, so i just made it one really long one :p  
> Let me know what you think!

Sam didn’t hear anything from Gabe until Sunday morning when he woke up to a string of text messages.

‘ _Hey Sam, you up?_ ’

‘ _Wanna go do something?_ ’

‘ _There’s an apple orchard around the corner, we could hang out there?_ ’

‘ _Sam?_ ’

All within five minutes of each other. Sam wiped a hand over his face and squinted at the bright screen as he texted back.

‘ _Yeah, give me half an hour_ ’

He got an instant reply.

‘ _Cool, text me your address?_ ’

Sam did and then headed to the shower. He made sure to keep a soaked towel around the vine he had cut, it was starting to grow back so Sam wasn’t too worried. He dressed in a t-shirt and cargo shorts, it was just apple picking right? At the last minute he grabbed his beanie from the sink, he’d forgotten to wash it the night before, but oh well. He just doused it with a little water and hoped it wasn’t too hot to dry before he got home again.

Gabe knocked on his door as he slid it on.

“Hey, come in, I just need to let Dean know I’m leaving.”

Sam tip-toed into Dean’s darkened room to find Dean already awake and on his phone under the covers.

“Uh, I’m going to hang out with Gabe okay?”

Dean narrowed his eyes.

“You sure you can trust him?”

Sam nodded.

“Alright, let me meet the boy and then you can go.”

“Fine,” Sam said. While Dean put on some pants he went out to the living room to warn Gabe.

“So, my brother wants to meet you. Sorry for whatever he says in advance.”

Gabe chuckled. “Sounds like a real mother hen.”

“Who’s a mother hen?” Dean asked a little too loudly.

“No one, Dean sir.” Gabe mock saluted.

“You must be Gabe.”

“The one and only.” Gabe winked this time.

Sam could see Dean getting more and more stiff, like he was restraining himself from doing something.

“Okay, we’re going. To the apple farm. Down the road. Now.” Sam pushed Gabe out of the door and waved to Dean behind him. Gabe was laughing as they walked to the parking lot.

“I don’t think he liked me,” Gabe said.

“Oh really, what gave you that impression?”

“Hey, sarcasm’s not welcome here, Samoose.” But he was laughing.

They both got into Gabe’s car and headed to the farm. Gabe’s music was loud, but Sam didn’t mind. He couldn’t really figure out what to say. He hadn’t had a lot of experience making conversation with people his own age.

At the farm, they parked in the dirt lot and followed the pathway to the old farmhouse. Its white paint was peeling, revealing a yellowed coat underneath. The door squeaked when Gabe opened it.

They each bought a basket before heading outside.

“Wanna see who can get the most?” Gabe asked, a glint in his eye. The sun beat down lightly today, just enough to warm the skin without feeling humid or overbeating. Sam smiled and took off running, leaving a swearing, sputtering Gabriel to catch up.

They raced around each other. While Sam had the height advantage, Gabe made up for it with enthusiasm, throwing himself up trees in seemingly inhumane ways. Sam finally tapped out when Gabe almost fell, sending his entire basket of apples raining down to the ground and onto Sam below him. Sam helped Gabe save the ones without bruises and they split their bounty underneath the shade, their backs pressed against the truck of a tree. Their shoulders were touching.

The apples were good, too, Sam thought they’d make a great apple pie, like his mom used to make. He had started his second when Gabe spoke.

“You don’t even get weekend off with that thing?” He gestured to Sam’s beanie.

Sam crossed his arms and shook his head, feeling slightly self conscious. He didn’t really have a choice.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, just wondering is all.”

Sam didn’t know how to respond. He could feel Gabe looking at him, see him out of the corner of his eye, but he kept his focus straight.

“How do you smell so good, Sammy?”

And Sam laughed, because of course Gabe could smell the flowers, he’d never thought of it before then. Honestly everyone probably could. He probably smelled like a grandmother.

“What, I was just being honest,” Gabe said, eyebrows furrowed. “Fine then, I won’t compliment you again.”

“No,” Sam tried to stop laughing, but the aching in his stomach remained. “No, I’m not making fun of you, really thank you. I’ll explain later, okay?” Probably. He’d been thinking about whether he could trust Gabe or not, and he was leaning towards yes. This time, though, he’d have to talk to Dean about it. Gabe relaxed a little at that.

“There’s going to be a later?” Gabe waggled his eyebrows.

“Eat your damn apple, Gabriel.” Sam laughed.

“Hey, Sam?”

“Yes Gabe?” Sam looked over at him.

“Did you know apples are…hardcore?” Gabe held up the core of the apple Sam finished earlier. Sam tried not to laugh, but the corners of his mouth quirked up. It was just such a terrible joke.

“Sam?”

“What?”

“What do you get when you cross an apple and a shellfish?”

“I don’t know, but I feel like you’re going to tell me.”

“A crab-apple. Get it? ‘Cause the crab’s a shellfish and the apple…”

“Yeah I get it Gabe,” Sam snorted, more at Gabe’s adamant expression than anything.

So they spent their Saturday afternoon together, shoulders brushing and munching on apples while Gabe tried to make Sam laugh with terrible apple puns. Gabe drove him home later with a promise to text Sam more puns. Great.

It wasn’t until he got into the apartment that Sam realized his beanie was dry. Shit. He pulled the beanie off as he raced into the bathroom to inspect the damage. It honestly wasn’t that bad. The only one that seemed too dry was the one he had cut. Just to be safe, he ran his head under the faucet to soak for a minute. From the kitchen, he ripped a paper towel in half and got it wet before gently wrapping the piece he’d cut. A small headache was forming underneath one of his eyes.

He was inspecting everything again when his phone pinged from his pocket with another pun from Gabriel. He left the bathroom as he responded, hair forgotten. Gabe’s timing was perfect. Yup, he really needed to thank that boy.

* * *

Monday morning found Sam, scissors wielded once again. He’d made up his mind, he’d just say thanks to Gabe and then all would return to normal. This time, he again picked a back piece, easy to hide, but he cut a little bit more than previously. Gabe deserved it. It still fit inside a bag and inside his pocket too.

Now he just needed to figure out how to get it to him. Best case scenario found Sam in third our before everyone else, which wasn’t too hard to achieve since history was just down the hall. Then he could scribble out a note and leave it, feigning surprise when Gabe showed up. Or he could slip it into Gabe’s bag during lunch so he’d find it later. That could work. He’d decide later. Right now, he needed to get to school on time.

Gabe threw a loop in his plan, though, during first hour. His phone vibrated with a text message.

‘ _You see Becky crying this morning?_ ’

‘ _No why what happened?_ ’ Sam typed quickly.

‘ _Someone asked her out as a joke or something. One of Alistair’s friends._ ’

That’s messed up. Sam had started to be friends with both Becky and Jess since they knew Gabe and would turn around during homework time in math. While Becky was maybe a little overbearing, she was sweet and she definitely didn’t deserve that. No one did. But what could he do?

Sam went back to listening to Garth talk about poetry techniques. It’s not like he could do anything to help right now.

Sam hurried out of history and was the first one in Algebra like he’d planned. He knew Ms. Mills always showed up a minute in, so he had to hurry. He scribbled the note and set it on the desk before sitting down in his own. Gabe came walking in with Ms. Mills not thirty seconds later.

“Ooo, someone left a flower on Becky’s desk. Wonder who that was?”

Sam shrugged. He had made a last minute change, had decided to leave it for Becky instead. She needed the flower today. Gabe would understand.

A tired looking Becky came in, arm linked with Jess’s. When her eyes landed on her desk, though, they lit up. She read the note and squealed, thrusting it at Jess, who read it before smiling.

“’ _Because you deserve better._ ’ Wonder who this is from?” Jess asked Gabe and Sam. Sam shrugged, trying to seem interested, but not too much, while also trying to seem surprised. It was difficult to judge how well he was doing. He didn’t think anyone was suspicious, so that was a good sign.

“I’ve never seen flowers like this before,” Becky exclaimed.

“Let me see,” Gabe asked, reaching for the note and the flower. He brought it to his nose, sniffed it slowly and Sam held his breath.

Ms. Mills called their attention as the final bell rang, and Gabe gave the flower back, to Sam’s relief. Gabe kept staring at it, though. And frowning. Sam couldn’t tell if he’d realized Sam smelled the same or if he was frowning for some other reason. Sam leaned farther away and prayed Gabe didn’t figure it out. He turned his attention back to class, trying to block Gabe out of his peripheral vision. In front of him, Becky didn’t stop smiling all class and Sam focused on that instead. That was the whole point after all.

Sam walked into the nurse’s office worried. He knew that Harvelle would know the flowers came from him, but he didn’t think she’d quite put together what that meant and he wanted to keep it that way.

When he walked into her office, he was greeted by a not-so-gentle smack to the head.

“Sam Winchester, you will answer me and you will be honest. Did it hurt?”

She had figured it out. He knew what she was asking. He also knew when to lie.

“No, if it had hurt I wouldn’t have done it.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Let me see.”

Sam sighed and pulled off his beanie, turning his back to her. She rested her hands on his shoulders before ever so gently picking through until she found the piece that had been severed. Sam had wrapped both this morning to make sure they stayed moist to grow.

“Why are there two?”

“Becky got asked out as a joke.” He left it at that.

She hummed under her breath behind him.

“They don’t hurt? And you’re feeling okay?”

Sam nodded.

“Okay, I don’t want you to do it anymore.” She stepped away and sat down on a plastic chair near him.

Taking that as approval, Sam got to work spraying everything. On his way out, he caught a glimpse of purple flowers sticking out of a glass cup on her desk. His flowers. He smiled.

“Thank you, Sam,” Ms. Harvelle said softly as he opened the door to leave. He nodded and went to meet Gabe.

“You alright there, Sammy?” Gabe asked halfway through lunch. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t feeling 100%. But he did stay up late texting Gabe the night before, and got up earlier today.

“Yeah, just tired is all.” Sam closed his eyes and lay against the grass until the bell rang, leaving half his lunch unfinished. Gabe wordlessly packed it up and slid it into Sam’s bag for later.

Sam found it on the way home when he heard the paper bag rustling as he stepped. Warmth flared in his stomach as he fished out his sandwich to finish. Gabe was pretty awesome.

* * *

Two days later, Wednesday, Sam had another plastic bag taking up space in his pocket and yet another vine wrapped in a damp paper towel. But, this was the last time. For Gabriel.

The day before had been gray, weighed down by a headache following him all day. He hadn’t wantd to worry Ms. Harvelle so he didn’t ask for any medicine and the day was torture. Sam got home after school and fell asleep on the couch, letting the apartment darken with the sky.

But today, now, he was feeling better, just a little anxious. His heartbeat stuttered every time he thought about leaving the orange sticky note on the desk for Gabe. This time, after spending all first hour racking his brain for what to write, he opted for something simple, ‘Just because’. 

And he was prepared to do it, but then Gabe texted him during second hour.

‘ _Won’t be in third hour, see you at lunch :p_ ’

Shit. What was he supposed to do now?  He couldn’t slip it to him at lunch and he wouldn’t see him until the next day. The flower would suffocate by then. Sitting in history, Sam’s mind raced to find someone to dish it off on. The class was leaving to go to the computer lab in five minutes, he could leave it on someone’s then, he just needed a target. He didn’t want it to be meaningless just because it wasn’t going to Gabriel. It was still a piece of him and he wanted to give it to someone who deserved it. He scanned the room. He didn’t know a lot of the students in this class, tending to stick to himself. No one stood out and he was running out of time.

As they stood up to go to the lab, Gordon, Alistair’s friend, slammed into a boy named Kevin, sending his books scattering everywhere and papers flying. Gordon just laughed and left with the group out the door while Kevin and a blond boy scrambled on the ground to clean up. Sam hurried over to help.

“Thanks, Sam right?” The blond boy asked.

Sam nodded.

“I’m Alfie.”

“Hey. You’re Kevin right?”

“Yeah, thanks for helping guys,” Kevin smiled sheepishly, like it was his fault.

They got everything picked up and Kevin and Alfie turned to leave.

“You coming Sam?” Alfie asked.

“Yeah, just need to grab my stuff, I’ll meet you guys there okay?”

They shrugged and left the room. Sam placed the note and the flower on Kevin’s desk and raced to catch up. It wasn’t Gabriel, but it was someone who deserved it. Sam sort of wished he had another for Alfie too.

When they came back to the room and Kevin saw the gift on his desk, the corner of his mouth tugged up in a half smile. Sam counted it as a win.

After a boring third hour, Sam hurried through the motions in the nurse’s office, relieved when Harvelle didn’t seem to notice yet another missing piece. He was in there for all of two minutes, though and he rushed out without a word.

Gabriel walked up to their spot just as Sam did, throwing his stuff down with a huff.

“Had to finish a test from first hour,” He explained. Sam grunted sympathetically and took out his lunch.

“So, I heard Kevin got a flower just like Becky yesterday. He’s in your second hour right?” Gabe asked.

Sam’s hands fumbled with his water, sending it spilling down his shirt. He scrambled to fit the lid on, the water cold as it soaked through to his stomach. He didn’t have any napkins so he grabbed the hem and shook it out to attempt to air dry.

“Uh, yeah.” Sam replied as he shook his shirt. Gabe just nodded. After an extended silence, he spoke again.

“Funny they both got flowers after someone bullied them.”

“Or it’s just a coincidence,” Sam said, keeping his voice measured.

“Maybe,” Gabe replied, “sure.”

Sam fiddled with his shirt. He could feel Gabe staring at him. But even if Gabe suspected Sam, he had no proof, no way of knowing for sure, and even then he wouldn’t know where the flowers were coming from, right? He’d just think Sam bought them. His secret was safe. Still panic flared in his gut.

Gabe started telling him about his test in Spanish and Sam went back to eating, but his hands were shaking, his stomach queasy. He wanted to throw up and confess and hide forever too, somehow all at the same time.

He was a zombie through the rest of the day and sat at home in the dark, thinking. He was doing something good, so why did he feel so guilty? Sam was helping people. He was brightening their day the only way he knew how. It shouldn’t be a bad thing, right? Dean would understand if he ever found out as long as Sam could explain himself. Right? He thought himself dizzy until Dean got home.

“Hey Sammy,” He called as he walked in.

“Hey,” Sam said back.

“You’ll never guess what some guy said to me- Wait, why do you still have your beanie on?”

Sam didn’t want Dean to see the places he cut, so he had left it on.

“Oh, they were a little dry today, so I wanted to make sure they soaked before bed.”

“Dry? Let me see,” Dean stepped towards Sam.

“No,” Sam half yelled, scrambling up and away from his brother. “I’m not a child; I can take care of myself. Plus, you have grease all over your fingers.”

“Okay, geez, just want to check. You sure it’s all good?”

“Yeah, Dean. I promise.”

“Okay, so anyways, this guy calls…” Dean started telling Sam all about the crazy customer, but Sam was too busy trying to quell the guilt burning him from the inside. He didn’t want to worry Dean, that’s why he didn’t show him. It would add to his stress and he didn’t need that. It was better for both of them. Plus, Sam was sure the flowers would grow back, the first one was already starting to. Sure, it was slow, but it was definitely growing back.

He feigned exhaustion and escaped to his room not long after, still guilt ridden and thinking himself in circles. It was safe to say he didn’t get much sleep that night.

* * *

Thursday morning, Sam woke up to a text from Gabe.

‘ _So, I heard Jess was dumped last night. Wonder if flower boy will strike again_.’

‘ _How do you know it’s a boy?_ ’ Sam texted back, but his hands were shaking. Gabe knew it was him, most definitely. And he was even telling him who needed cheering up. Sam had planned to give Gabe one today, but Gabe was obviously in a good mood, right? He didn’t need a flower today. Jess, on the other hand, was definitely going to be upset. And she was always so nice to Sam. She deserved one. Gabe could wait for another day.

‘ _The handwriting from Becky’s note, you noodle. It was distinctly boy_.’ Sam frowned.

‘ _Messy handwriting doesn’t mean it’s a boy_.’

‘ _Sure, kiddo, whatever you say_.’

Whatever, Gabe could think all he wanted, but he had no proof. Sam would just have to be more careful. It wasn’t enough to have to stop, right?

So, Sam once again held a vine between his fingers and bit his lip as he cut a chunk off. This time, his fourth time, he had to down to a two minute process. No hesitation. No thought. He just snipped it and jumped in the shower. No big deal. It was becoming part of his routine.

When he got to first hour, Sam found a sketch of something face down on his desk, a sticky note on the back.

‘ _Just in case flower boy needs some help with his note._ ’

Sam flipped over the paper to find a beautifully drawn pencil sketch of Jess with a set of almost robotic looking letters on the bottom. ‘ _Because you smile beautifully_ ’. It was perfect.

So, Gabe knew it was Sam and Sam obviously knew it was Gabe, but Sam didn’t want to acknowledge it, didn’t want to actually admit it was him. So he didn’t, he folded up the drawing and stuffed it into his pocket and pretended to forget.

The sketch did end up on Jess’s desk along with the flowers though, and Gabe and Sam sat beside each other when she walked in. Sam spent all class waiting for the bomb, for the accusation from Gabriel, but it never came. Gabe knew, he had to, but he didn’t say anything either.  They had a silent agreement not to mention it.

Jess did smile, though.  She didn’t squeal like Becky, didn’t call attention to herself. She folded the drawing up and put it in her pocket, tucked the flower into her hair and got out her notebook. She wore the flower for the rest of the day along with a small smile.

Lunch was still a little strained. Sam didn’t know what to say so he didn’t say anything. Gabe did what he usually did and talked to fill the silence and Sam was glad for it. He liked the fact that Gabe could annoy him into a smile when he was feeling down. But today, he couldn’t shake it all, couldn’t forget it all. It probably had something to do with how little he slept the night before. He’d feel better tomorrow.

And he did. He woke up Friday feeling much better. Dean had the late shift the night before so he let his hair down to get some fresh air and he washed his beanie and he slept. He slept for what felt like days before his alarm went off. He felt much better.

Sam got to school early too, not having to sneak around with flowers for once.

“Hey,” Gabe called as Sam walked up.

“Hey.”

“Want half my muffin?” Gabe held out the bottom half of his muffin.

“You know the bottom is the healthier part, right?” Sam said but took it anyways. Gabe munched on the top part, which was dripping with icing and chocolate drizzle. Figures. At one point he got icing in the corner of his mouth, but he didn’t seem to notice.

“You got a little something,” Sam said, gesturing.

“Where?” Gabe asked. Sam gestured again.

“Dude, just get it for me,” Gabe leaned closer to Sam. Sam hesitated, just one second, hand just close enough to feel Gabe’s breath puff against his skin, before wiping the icing away. He almost licked it off his thumb before remembering that Gabe was there and Gabe was watching him, so he aborted the movement and wiped it on his jeans. Gabe was staring at him opened mouthed.

“You were saying?” Sam prompted. Gabe had been talking about something. Hadn’t he? Sam couldn’t remember now. Gabe shook his head, seeming to come back to himself, and started talking again. Sam’s hand tingled. He shoved it into his empty jeans pocket so he wouldn’t stare at it.

* * *

 Sam slept away most of the weekend in his room, only coming out to re-wrap his hair and to air everything out when Dean wasn’t home. He made sure his homework got done in between naps. It was weird, how exhausted he was, but he was a teenage boy. He was probably just growing.

Honestly, he didn’t think about it much; he just curled his long frame beneath his gray sheets and shut off his brain for a little while. Or a long while. Whichever.  

Dean came to check on him a few times, asking if he was alright. Sam brushed off his worry. He was just growing. He could take care of himself. And no he wasn’t hungry. He’d eat later. God, even mom didn’t hover like this. Dean left before he could apologize. At least he left. Sam vowed to apologize before falling asleep again.

Gabe texted him Monday morning with another target.

‘ _Lisa. Someone says she sneaks into the bathroom halfway through lunch every day_.’

Sam knew what that meant. He would gladly give to her if only to make her feel beautiful for a little while.

A sketch sat on his desk that morning. ‘ _Because we're here for you, no matter what._ ’

He stopped in Harvelle’s room a bit earlier, wanting to get to the bathroom to leave the note. Sam planned on taping it to the counter with Lisa’s name scrawled on top and hoping it got to her.

“How was your weekend?” Ms. Harvelle asked.

“Good, caught up on sleep. What about you?” Sam asked as he misted everything. She didn’t notice or if she did, didn’t mention the new severed piece hanging from his head.

“Good, thanks. We, Jo and I, went up to my cabin to go camping. It was nice.”

“That sounds fun. I haven’t been camping since my mom died.” He hadn’t meant to say it, it just came out.

“Sorry, Sam,” she said softly.

“It’s okay.” Sam shrugged it off and flashed a smile on the way out.

Miraculously, the hallway and bathroom were deserted when Sam snuck in. He taped the folded sketch and flower to the mirror with Lisa’s name and hurried out.

During fifth hour, Gabe sent him a picture, taken at school that day, of Lisa with her purple flower tucked into her hair. Mission accomplished.

And so became the routine. Gabe would text him a name, or if Sam would choose, and a sketch would be on his desk come first hour. They did it two times that week, the first being Lisa and the second someone named Anna that Sam didn’t know. The week after was Alfie and then a girl named Meg who, honestly, scared Sam a little.

After she sported the flower pinned to her shirt, the school went crazy. For some reason it hit social media like a wave and everyone was talking about the anonymous person responsible for this. Sam didn’t know Meg was that popular, but she was. It was all anyone talked about at lunch, during break, through the hallways.

Who was next? they all whispered.

One day, the following week, Sam was in the nurse once again. This time he had eight or nine neatly wrapped pieces dangling from his head. He faced Ellen the entire time so she wouldn’t see all the damage.

“You know, Sam, Joanna Beth was telling me something the other day. She said someone is going around and surprising people with flowers when they have a bad day. Purple flowers. You wouldn’t know anything about that would you?” She said it gently, like she was afraid Sam would bolt.

Which he did. He mumbled a no, kept his face to the ground, and left. He heard her sigh as the door closed.

The next day, he decided not to go. He didn’t need to every day, right? One day without it wouldn’t hurt anything.

He would just have to make sure his beanie was soaked when he left. It could last all day, that had been the original plan after all. He still kept the plastic bottle in his backpack, he could always find a bathroom if there was an emergency.

True to his word Sam soaked his beanie extra the next morning, walked to school with water dripping down his back.

“Don’t you have to go?” Gabe asked during third hour, glancing at the clock.

Sam shook his head. “No, I’m not going anymore. I don’t need to.”

Lunch was almost painful. The sun seemed extra strong, seeping through his beanie harshly. By fifth hour his scalp was itching, burning. His beanie was dry beneath his fingers.

When he got home, he ran his head under the sink for ten minutes, but the burning stayed all night. The vines were stiff and brittle, the severed ones worse than ever. In the mirror, he took stock. He’d cut around ten, a good half of his hair and it was slow growing back. But it was growing back. The first piece he’d cut was finally showing buds to flower again. It’d been around three weeks. It was fine. He was fine.

Gabriel texted him two names for the next day. Sam, though he knew he shouldn’t, typed out ‘ _okay_ ’. His lips were dry and cracking and he could hardly breathe through his nose. Allergies, that's all. It was just allergies.


	4. Chapter 4

Sam couldn’t remember the last time allergies left him with chills running up his spine and his entire body aching, but it happened to some people, right? The pollen count was higher this year…right? He groaned into his pillow and dragged himself out of bed. He needed water.

In the kitchen, a note sat on the counter. ‘ _Got called in, I’ll bring home dinner_ ’. At least he’d have the place to himself. And silence.

Sam poured himself some water and wandered to the couch when his phone started ringing from his bedroom.

He scrambled up and padded, barefoot, to retrieve it.

“Hello?” His voice sounded hoarse and scratchy, even to himself.

“You up Sammy? Listen, I know it’s a weekend, but I have another person.”

Sam’s heart sank. He couldn’t, he only had a few left. He’d counted three flowering vines left. Three. Everything else was choppy and uneven, a few budding but not yet flowering. Gabriel rambled on about someone’s parents divorcing or something, but Sam didn’t listen.  

“Can’t today. Sorry.”

“You okay, Sam?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just allergies.”

“Okay, sorry, go back to bed. You sound sick.”

Sam hung up. What started as an act of kindness now felt like an obligation. Sam didn’t know these people. Didn’t know if they deserved what he was giving them. It weighted heavy on his gut. The thought of strangers walking around with pieces of him. But he wanted to do this for Gabriel, _with_ Gabriel. He didn’t know how else to do that.

An hour later, Sam jerked awake to a knock at the door. He threw on his beanie dry and went to open it. Gabriel stood on the doorstep with what seemed like ten plastic bags weighing down his arms.

“Whoa, you look like shit. You sure you’re feeling okay?” Gabriel brushed past Sam and into the apartment.

“Gee, thanks,” Sam ground out. He followed Gabe into his kitchen where the boy had started unpacking.

“Okay, I brought soup, crackers, a cold Dr.Pepper, some Advil in case you didn’t have any, an icepack, some candy. I was going to make you a CD or something, but I had limited time. Oh, I also brought a few books in case you wanted to read or something.”

Sam was having a hard time processing it all.

“How’d you know?” Sam asked.

“Please, I could hear you sniffling from a mile away. Here, take these.” Gabe thrust a few pills into Sam’s hand along with the Dr. Pepper. Sam frowned but swallowed them down.

“Go, off to bed. I’ll put the soup in the fridge to heat up later. Do you want the icepack now?”

Sam nodded, suddenly aware of the sweat soaking through his gray t-shirt. And of how dry his beanie was against his head. Shit. He needed to get it wet. But how was he going to explain that? Hey Gabe I’m just going to go over to the sink and dunk my entire head underneath, don’t mind me.

“Go.” Gabe shoed him through the doorway.

Sam obeyed, collapsing onto the couch and curling his body so he fit. His hair would be fine. Gabe would leave soon.

Gabe puttered around the kitchen for a few minutes before emerging, icepack and a book in his arms.

“Up,” Gabe motioned for Sam to sit up before sliding into the empty space. He then sat there, just looking at Sam. Huh? Sam didn’t understand. Gabe gestured for Sam to lay down. On his lap. Sam hesitated, but Gabe tugged on his wrist and Sam just went with it. It was easier not to fight. And Gabe was soft. He didn’t protest long.

Gabe gently rested the icepack on Sam’s forehead, where the beanie meets his skin. He opened the book, the spine cracking, and began to read into the quiet room. Sam wasn’t sure what book it was, nor did he pay any attention to the story. Sam fell asleep to the sound of Gabe’s voice, the feel of his fingers absentmindedly stroking his forehead.

Sam woke up drooling. On Gabe. Who was still Sam’s pillow two hours later. Sam sat up, scrambling to get his weight off of Gabe’s legs. That couldn’t have been comfortable.

“Feeling better?” Gabe asked, glancing up from his book.

Sam nodded.

“Awesome, why don’t you go shower? You’ll probably feel much better after that.” Gabriel said.

Sam nodded. But something was off. Different. His beanie was damp. What the hell? Sam’s hands shot to the back of the beanie and yup. Wet. He looked at Gabriel who had stood up.

“Oh, uh I noticed it was dry and you usually keep it wet during school, so I figured I should put some water on it?” Gabe scratched the back of his neck.

“You noticed that?” Sam asked. Gabe nodded.  

“Thank you, man, really.”

“Anything for you, Sammich. Anything.” He sounded so sincere. Sam’s pulse stuttered before roaring back to life double time. There was a slight, small, minuscule chance he had a tiny-tiny crush on Gabriel.

Gabe walked up to where Sam was still sitting on the couch.

“Well, it’s been a blast but I’ve got to go.”

He smacked a kiss onto Sam’s cheek, meant to be playful, and headed to the door.

“Text me later, ‘kay?” And he was gone.

Sam sat on the couch, frozen. His hand gravitated to where Gabe’s lips had touched. He didn’t need a mirror to know he was blushing. Okay maybe his crush wasn’t so small.

Sam took a shower then, and he felt much better afterwards. His scalp didn’t feel so stiff, his body less overheated. A little sleep and some Advil made all the difference.

Next he decided to soak his head while he was alone. He couldn’t do it with Daen around anymore, he’d freak if he saw his hair. He set a chair by the sink and filled it with warm water. His hair floated around in the water while he thought. He wanted to send Gabe a thank you, but he didn’t know how. A text wasn’t enough. But it was a start.

‘ _Thanks for everything, Gabe._ ’

He received a reply almost instantly.

‘ _Anytime, Sammy. It was just an excuse to get out of the house._ ’

‘ _Why’d you need to get out of the house?_ ’

‘ _Family’s driving me mad. What’re you up to?_ ’

‘ _Nothing, you?_ ’

‘ _Nothing, can I call you?_ ’

‘ _Sure_.’

Sam’s heart stopped working from the time he hit send to the time his phone started ringing.

“Hey, Gabe.”

“Hey, Sam. Wanna play the trading game? I ask you a question then you ask me one?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, what’s your favorite color?”

“Right now, it’s gold.” Gabe was silent.

“Uh, this is the part where you ask me something.” Oh, right.

“Uh, what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“I don’t know. My mom said when I was little they asked all of us to write down what we wanted to be during class. I wrote I wanted to be happy. I guess I lost track of that since then.” Sam laughed at the image of little Gabe, gap toothed and wide eyed. The candy-loving had obviously stayed.

“Can I ask you something more personal?” Gabe asked.

“Sure.”

“How’d your mom die?”

Sam sort of knew it was coming. He’d said before that she was dead, but he hadn’t elaborated. He wasn’t sure how to deal with the reactions he got from it. The pity and the apologies.

“My old house was perfect. At least it seemed like it. Memories tend to do that, make things seem more perfect. Polishes the dirty clothes and the peeling paint away into non-existence.  Anyways, my parents had lived there since before Dean was born. Back then, my dad owned his own hardware store down the street. He was always fixing something. My mom loved our front yard, would dance around barefoot in her summer dresses. I was five when it happened. There was a fire. In all honesty, we lost both our parents that day.” Sam was practically whispering.

He pulled his head out of the water, grabbed a towel to wrap around his head. He waited for the usual response.

“That sucks, man.” That was different. No ‘I’m sorry.’ No pity. Just a teenager’s acknowledgement that it did indeed suck. It also let Sam decide whether or not he wanted to keep talking.

“Yeah, it did. Does. My turn right?”

They moved on. Sam turned to lighter stuff. Favorite candy, favorite soda, favorite movie.

“Celebrity crush?” Sam asked after moving to the couch. The sky was starting to darken.

“Uh, Chris Pratt. He’s always making people laugh.” Well, that was unexpected. Gabe was into guys. Sam tried to stop the tiny feeling of hope unfurling in his chest. He couldn’t.

“Mine’s Chris Evans. Blonde’s are my weakness.” There, it was out there. They moved on.

Dean came home later. Sam and Gabe were still talking. Sam said his goodbyes.

Dean came in with bags of burgers and fries that had Sam’s stomach growling. He never ate Gabe’s soup earlier. He’d bring it for lunch on Monday.

“You don’t look so good, you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, just a cold or something. I’m fine.”

“That Gabe on the phone?” He raised his eyebrows at Sam. Sam nodded.

“You two a thing or…?”

Sam shook his head, kept his gaze on the TV. He scratched the back of his neck.

“Trust me, if he’s calling you, he probably wants it too.”

They went back to fighting over what to watch. They settled on flipping back and forth between Star Trek and the History Channel, which is what they always ended up doing. Sam didn’t know why they bothered fighting over it every time.

* * *

 

Monday morning had Sam cutting off another flower. For someone he didn’t even know. But Gabe was adamant that this person deserved it, so he went along with it.He felt off for the rest of the day. By lunch, he was irritated and headachey. Miserable. He tucked his legs under him and crossed his arms across his knees, burying his face in the darkness he created.

Gabe was tapping his fingers against Sam’s leg as he read a book, though. It was like Sam could feel every tap travel through his skin to pound beneath his eyes. He could only take so much.

“Can you stop?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, sorry. You okay?”

“Just a headache is all.”

“Here,” Gabe was holding out his flannel, balled up into a pillow. Sam melted, smiling gratefully at Gabe before sprawling on the grass and closing his eyes. the shirt smelled distinctly like Gabe. Like apple pie and warmth. Like sunshine.

That night, Sam realized he had kept the flannel after the bell rang. He also realized he’d never given Gabe a flower; there was always someone else who needed one. Sam decided to change that.

Sam was anxious the next day, Gabe’s flower in his pocket. He also woke up feeling sicker than before. He felt both sweaty and cold at the same time. He didn’t eat anything since his stomach was threatening to toss it back up and the nerves weren’t helping how much he was shaking.

But, he just needed to make it to third hour. He’d leave Gabe with his flower and flannel and  be done with the whole thing forever. Then, then he could heal. In first hour he laid his head down on his desk during the lecture. Garth must have seen how bad he looked or didn’t care. He left Sam alone.

“Well, Sammyboy, you aren’t looking too good.” Alistair said. There were ten minutes left of class. Garth had gone to make copies of their homework before the bell. Sam was not in the mood to deal with Alistair, not now. So he ignored him.

“You know, you never did show me what was under that little hat of yours. And I’m still curious. Care to share?”

“Fuck off,” Sam said, lifting his head. His vision was a little blurry, he blinked a few times to clear it.

“Come on Sammy, aren’t we friends? Don’t you trust me?”

Sam had a weird feeling in his gut. Like something bad was going to happen. He shot a text to Gabriel.

‘ _Alistair…SOS_ ’

Alistair was silent when Sam hit send. It was freaking him out. Why couldn’t he just leave Sam alone?

“Let’s find out, shall we?”

Sam knew what was coming, tried to stop it, but Alistair was too strong or Sam was too weak, and Alistair’s long fingers wrapped themselves around the beanie, yanked it off of Sam’s head. His chopped up vines fell around his face for everyone to see.

Panic welled, he had the urge to throw is hands around his head, but he knew it wouldn’t do any good. Instead he kept his eyes down, but he could see the flash of people’s cameras. He was having trouble breathing normally.

Alistiar, though, for him that wasn’t enough. No, he couldn’t just leave it there. He ran his fingers through the vines and Sam shuddered. Maybe if he didn’t fight back this would end.

His fingers wrapped around Sam’s last flowering vine and snapped it off, tossing it onto the ground and smashing it with his sneakers. Sam could feel tears forming. He just felt so violated. It was his last one, his _last_ fucking one. He’d wanted to save it for something or someone. Maybe even for himself.

“Alistair, Sam, what the hell’s going on?” Garth asked, stood frozen in the doorway. He took in Alistair with Sam’s beanie in hand; Sam’s hunched form, his…hair? What the hell was happening? Alistair tossed the beanie at Sam and sauntered away laughing. Sam slid onto the floor to gather all of the pieces of his flower he could, but tears were blocking his vision. His fingers wouldn’t cooperate either. He bolted from the room, brushing past his teacher and out the door.

In the hallway he crashed into Gabriel. Fan-fucking-tastic. Now Gabriel would know what a freak he was.

“Sam? What’s going on? What’s wrong?” Gabriel asked, but Sam could see his terrified expression as he took in Sam’s monster hair. He didn’t want to stick around for the final blow. He just kept walking. He needed air. He needed to breathe.

He ended up in the courtyard, in their lunch spot. Where else could he go? He wasn’t even sure when he even left the building, but it was silent and empty outside. Someone would find him later, but right now he was just so tired and the silence was nice.  He pulled out his note for Gabe, his flower and his shirt, tossed them on the ground by his feet before he curled into a ball on the grass and closed his eyes. Maybe he could sleep it all away. Escape into a dream forever.

The note for Gabriel was longer than all of the others combined. Sam couldn’t decide what to write, kept crossing out words before deciding just to write them all.

‘ _Because you stuck around.’_

_‘Because you’re warm.’_

_‘Because you tell terrible jokes.’_

_‘Because I sometimes think about kissing you.’_

_‘Because you make me laugh.’_

_‘Because you fill the silence.’_

_‘Because I like you.’_

_‘Because you deserved all of them but this, this is all I have left.’_

The whole page was filled with things like that. One look and Gabe would know that Sam was sort of in love with him. And that was fine, now. Now that he knew what a monster Sam was. He wouldn’t have to deal with rejection for a different reason now.

He fell asleep on the grass. Now that his secret was out, swamping social media sites like crazy, he didn’t need to hide. It wasn’t like there was anything of him left for anyone to take. He’d already given it all away.

When Sam was younger, just before his mom died, they had a tradition. His mom, Dean and him would go ‘full moon hunting’. Once a month, they’d get flashlights and ‘special’ snacks that glowed in the dark and they’d go through the woods by their house to find the best spot to see the full moon. They always ended up in the same spot, month after month. A spot where the trees cleared, except for one in the middle of a grassy circle. They’d always end up with their backs against that tree, grass itching their ankles.  

Sam dreamt he was there. In that clearing with her. She was gently running her fingers through his hair and humming softly as he stared up at the moon.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the end folks. Thanks for reading!

“Gabriel, you need to let him rest.”

“I know, I know. I’ll just wait here, though. Quiet as a mouse or even quieter. Like a turtle or something. Pinky swear.”

“Fine, but if Principal Metatron comes looking for you, this was your idea and you wouldn’t leave. Capiche?”

“Yeah, yeah. I capiche.”

Sam cracked open his eyes.

“Sammy?” Gabriel’s voice was closer than before. He felt stiff, his throat burning each time he swallowed. Some sort of wrapping was around his head.

“Sam?” Gabe was hovering over Sam.

“Gabriel, honey, you really need to give the boy some space.” Ms. Harvelle’s voice floated from somewhere Sam couldn’t see.

He struggled into a sitting position. He felt like his entire body had been dehydrated and stretched out and bruised.

“Here, drink.” Harvelle handed him a paper cup. He drained it in one gulp.

“Sam?” Gabriel said. He was sitting on the edge of one of the plastic chairs, leaning forward towards Sam. Sam, he now realized, had been asleep on one of the beds in the office, tucked behind a curtain.

Sam wanted to look at Gabe, but his look earlier, the terrified look when he saw Sam, hair and all, kept replaying in his head. He kept his eyes straight forward.

“Sam,” Gabe said again. He inhaled like he was going to speak again but nothing came out.

“You should go.”

“Sam, I didn’t know what I was doing to you when I asked you to do this. If I would have known.”

“I know,” Sam cut him off, “I know. It was my choice.”

Sam looked around. Harvelle was at her desk, watching them. His backpack was piled on a chair in the corner.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Sam shrugged, wincing at the stiffness in his shoulder blades.

“I really think you should go.” _Please don’t go._

“You heard him, out.” Harvelle stood up.

“Wait, why do you have to go to the principal? What did you do to your hand?” When Gabe stood up, Sam caught a glance of a white bandage wrapped around his right hand.

“Let’s just say Alistair’s nose ain’t so straight anymore.”

“Gabe,” Sam protested, but he couldn’t hide his smile. It fell when Gabe finally caught his eyes. He looked sad. Sad that Sam turned out to be a freak.

When Sam looked back up, Gabe had gone.

“Sam, you shouldn’t have let it get this bad. I mean you stopped showing up and it wasn’t like I could make you come in. I’m furious,” She sat down next to him and patted his hand, “I’m glad you’re okay, but I’m furious.”

She paused a moment before continuing.

“You should know, that boy’s been here the entire time, waiting for you to wake up. He kept saying it was his fault. Now, I don’t know him very well, but I don’t think he’s bothered by what you got under those bandages, you understand?”

Sam nodded.

“Also, I called Dean. He’ll be here in an hour. You need to talk to him.”

The guilt was overwhelming. Dean didn’t need to leave work, he’d get in trouble and it was Sam’s fault. Didn’t he ever think of anyone but himself?

“You two are going to need to meet with Principal Metatron as well, to work out what to do going forward.”

Sam gingerly felt around the bandages around his head.

“Oh, yeah. I didn’t know what else to do besides keep them wet. I don’t know how to say this, but they look like they’re dying.”

“They are.”

“Will they grow back?”

Sam shrugged. He’d never let it get this bad before.

“Probably?” He offered. Maybe. Hopefully.

She nodded and patted his knee before she went back to her desk.

Dean showed up an hour later.

He burst into the nurses office, fear rolling off of him in waves. Thing about Dean is, when he’s worried, he yells.

“What the hell were you thinking?” Ellen disappeared from the room. Sam held up his hands.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I thought I was helping people.”

“God, Sam, how? How could doing this to yourself help anyone else? Especially anyone who cares about you?”

“It made their day a little brighter. I didn’t know how else to do that.”

“So you gave away everything? Did they even know what you were doing?”

Sam shook his head.

“Sam, you can’t do that. Give away everything to strangers. What’ll you have left for yourself?”

“But they weren’t strangers, not at first. They were for my friends.”

“If they were your friends, they would’ve noticed.”

“But, Dean, _you_ didn’t even notice.” Sam said quietly. Dean recoiled. Sam had gone too far. He just didn’t want Dean to yell anymore.

Dean dropped into the chair Gabe vacated, silent. He scrubbed his face with his hands.

“I know Sammy. I’m sorry. I just never thought-

“And you had no reason to think that. I made sure of it.”

“Still , I should have noticed. I mean one starts to die and you get so sick. Remember that time you puked on me in Walmart?”

Sam nodded, smiling at the memory. They ran out of there so fast.

“I just- Sam this could have killed you. Sounds to me like it almost did.”

“Dean. I wouldn’t have let it get that bad. It’s just like the flu.”

“Still, Sammy. You could have come to me. I would have helped you get out of it or whatever.”

“I know. I didn’t want to make things worse for you.”

“Sam, this made things worse for me than that ever would have. When I got the call, I thought- Doesn’t matter what I thought, but I was so scared, Sammy. So scared. They didn’t tell me much, just something about self-harm and you were sick.”

That hit Sam worse than anything that had happened before. Self harm.

“I don’t think it’s technically self harm if my intent wasn’t to hurt myself.” Sam defended. He knew he was being childish, but it felt important to be right about something right now. He had no other leverage.

“Self mutilation, then. That’s not the important thing. The important thing is that you hurt yourself for other people and that’s not okay. Not ever. You hear me?”

“How else was I supposed to get them to like me?”

“I don’t know, Sam, talk to them. You seem to have done okay with Gabriel if he’s still hovering out in the hallway.”

He was out there? Still?

“Sam, they didn’t even know it was you.”

“They know now. Besides that wasn’t why I did it. I just wanted to help people.”

“Not again, Sammy. You have to promise me, never again.”

Sam nodded.

“What do we do now?”

“Do you want to stay?”

Sam thought about everyone staring, gawking, the flashing pictures. About how tired and sore he was. That part sucked. But there was Gabe and Jess and Becky and all the other people who were cool. And there was class. All the things he was learning.

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then. Let’s go talk to the head honcho and work something out.” Sam got up from the bed and made his way to the door behind Dean.

“Oh and Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re grounded. Forever. Bitch.”

“Jerk.” Sam smiled at his brother and they went to talk to Metatron.

Metatron agreed to allow Sam to stay as long as his hair didn’t cause a commotion during class anymore. Sam wasn’t sure he could prevent that, but he agreed anyways. They also agreed to keep Sam away from class for the next week until the novelty of it died down. Sam thought it would just make it worse when he came back, but it made Dean feel better about sending him back. The next week was going to be torture.

Metatron also let it slip that Gabe would be suspended for two days just in case Alistair’s parents tried to complain. Alistair was expelled when every kid in Sam’s class raised a fuss. It all worked out, mostly.

Sam moped around the house for the next week, doing any homework his teachers sent him. Dean stopped home what seemed like every hour to make sure Sam was taking care of himself. He’d relax eventually, but not yet. His panic was still to fresh in his mind.

The day before he went back to school, the doorbell rang. He was home alone. No one was there, but on their welcome mat was a bouqet of fake flowers and a sketch of Sam, Sam with his real hair. He was rolling his eyes in the sketch, but he was smiling too. Sam called Gabe.

“Heya, kiddo. What’s up?”

“You don’t think I’m a freak?”

“Well, you do have poor taste in movies. And music. Also, your height is pretty crazy.”

“But, my hair isn’t…hair.”

“Yeah, so?”

That was that.

Back at school, his desk in every single class was filled with notes from his classmates. Some he had given flowers to, some he didn’t even know. Even Mr. Singer slipped a note in there. Sam felt like his heart swelled. He texted Dean a picture.

The week after he went back was the anniversary of his mom’s death. Everything was black that day. His suit. Dean’s car. They drove to her gravestone together. Sam waited in the car while Dean took his turn. He didn’t watch his brother, just like he knows his brother won’t watch him. Dean knocked on the window after five minutes.Sam’s turn.

His feet crunched in the dirt, scuffing his dress shoes. He’d clean them later. He pulled out the plastic bag he’d stowed in his pocket before they left, opened it. Inside was the remains of his last flower, the one Alistiar had crushed. Gabe had gathered as may pieces as possible and left the bag in Sam’s backpack. He hadn’t thanked him yet. He wrote a note for his mom, too.

‘ _Because this is the last one, I promise._ ’

He crouched in front of her stone, used his hands to dig a small hole in the dirt. His fingers were rubbed raw as he broke through the rocks, but he ignored it. Dean would scold him for it later.

He put the note, folded up in the bottom and the crushed flower on top, spreading a thin layer of dirt over the top. He didn’t know if it would grow. If it did, he could picture it growing up the side of her stone, it was a vine after all. He’d find out next year.

Dean let Gabe come over later that day. Sam had never been so happy to see him. Gabe brought a book he was in the middle of and wanted to finish. Sam rested his head in Gabe’s lap like they did when he was sick, and watched TV. Sam was very aware that he’d told Gabe how he felt and he wasn’t sure about Gabriel. He wasn’t sure if it was okay, but then Gabe was running his fingers through Sam’s vines and he relaxed. It was okay.

“Hey, Sam?” Gabe whispered.

“Yeah?” Sam looked up at Gabe.

“Can I kiss you?”

Sam nodded. It wasn't fantastic or mind-blowing. His life didn't change because of it. But it was gentle and Gabe tasted like candy. Like the apple farm and the sun and laying in the grass. Or that’s what he felt like. Or that’s what he was. Was there a difference?

They went back to lazing around. Sam was still sick after all, the remnants of everything still in his muscles.

And sure, people still talked around school.  Still got some weird looks. It was high school. Who didn’t get weird looks? But when his flowers had finally all started budding and he could sit in the sun during lunch _without_ his beanie, well Sam felt pretty good. Especially with Gabe’s hand in his.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, a few things. This idea stemmed off of Shel Silverstein's ['The Thinker of Tender Thoughts'](https://40.media.tumblr.com/c0d3cec9ca87ebe4ba6f2193d746a405/tumblr_n5n90gabeI1qft6slo1_500.jpg) and also [ this ](http://nmurdock.tumblr.com/post/112150732606) by [this](http://nmurdock.tumblr.com/) artist on Tumblr NMurdock. Wisteria is the type of vine that is growing in place of Sam's hair in case you were wondering. Please let me know what you think! My tumblr is [ here ](http://kibberswrites.tumblr.com/) if you want to say hi! Please, please, please let me know what you think!


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